


𝕄𝕚𝕣𝕣𝕠𝕣 | 𝕄𝕚𝕣𝕣𝕠𝕣

by Download077, Kensalyn



Series: Child of Jörmungandr [5]
Category: Overlord - Maruyama Kugane & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, CoJ, Cross Over, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Friendship, Humor, RLotSF, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-17
Updated: 2020-06-24
Packaged: 2021-03-03 18:36:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24770119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Download077/pseuds/Download077, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kensalyn/pseuds/Kensalyn
Summary: You just wanted something to remember Yggdrasil by. That's all. You didn’t  ̴k̴t̶h̷i̴n̴ ̵y̸u̸d̶’̶o̷ edn u01 brggg10100 -- nterie l1010-- NPC 10100 0̸̢̖̜̩͔̓̇1̷̘̊͋0̷̛͓̉0̵̖̮̞̍ͅ -bzzzt-ɴᴏᴡ ᴅᴏᴡɴʟᴏᴀᴅɪɴɢ ᴘʟᴀʏᴇʀ ᴀᴠᴀᴛᴀʀ.ᴇɴᴄʀʏᴘᴛɪɴɢ ꜱᴏꜰᴛᴡᴀʀᴇ…ꜰɪʟᴇꜱ ᴇɴᴄʀʏᴘᴛᴇᴅ.ɪɴᴠᴇɴᴛᴏʀʏ ᴛʀᴀɴꜱꜰᴇʀʀᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ɪɴᴛᴇʀɴᴀʟ ɴᴇᴛᴡᴏʀᴋ.ᴘᴇʀᴍɪꜱꜱɪᴏɴꜱ ɢɪᴠᴇɴ ᴛᴏ ɪɴᴛᴇʀɴᴀʟ ɴᴇᴛᴡᴏʀᴋ.ʜᴏᴍᴇ_ᴘᴏᴅ ʜᴀꜱ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴅɪꜱᴄᴏɴɴᴇᴄᴛᴇᴅ.ʟᴀᴍᴘ_ᴄᴀᴄʜᴇ.ᴇxᴇ ᴀᴄᴛɪᴠᴀᴛᴇᴅ.ʟᴀᴍᴘ_ᴄᴀᴄʜᴇ.ᴇxᴇ ʜᴀꜱ ꜱᴛ---ʀʀʀʀʀɪɢ̶̼͍̯̼̩͠ʜ̶̤̓ꜰ̵̨͖̬͙̋̽̈̈́ᴋ̵̹͎̾̚ᴢ̴̖̿͐͆͝͝ᴢ̸̧̰̒ᴢ̸̛̘̜̂̐̿͘ᴢᴢᴢᴢ----1̶̬͉͛0̷͖͊1̵͔̈́0̴͓͛0̵̗͕̌ ̶̬̝̇0̵̒̆Ι1̴̛̞̹̿0̷̢̻̐͝0̴̝̦̓̀1̶̬͉͛0̷͖͊1̵͔̈́0̴͓͛0̵̗͕̌ ̶̬̝̇0̵̒̆Ι1̴̛̞̹̿0̷̢̻̐͝0̴̝̦̓̀1̶̬͉͛0̷͖͊1̵͔̈́0̴͓͛0̵̗͕̌ ̶̬̝̇0̵̒̆Ι1̴̛̞̹̿0̷̢̻̐͝0̴̝̦̓̀ʟᴀᴍᴘ_ᴄᴀᴄʜᴇ.ᴇxᴇ ʜᴀꜱ ꜰɪɴɪꜱʜᴇᴅ ʀᴇɴᴅᴇʀɪɴɢ.ᴘʟᴀʏᴇʀ ᴀᴠᴀᴛᴀʀ ᴅᴏᴡɴʟᴏᴀᴅ ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴇᴛᴇᴅ.So you’ve went from 250 square feet of suck to Nazarick.Freakin’ Nazarick.The guardians adore you, wait, no, they worship you. Wait..why does this sound so familiar?
Relationships: Demiurge (Overlord - Maruyama Kugane)/Original Female Character(s), Pandora's Actor (Overlord - Maruyama Kugane)/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Child of Jörmungandr [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1275569
Comments: 32
Kudos: 50





	1. A joyful reflection

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ・:☆ 𝒜𝓊𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓇𝓈 𝒩𝑜𝓉𝑒𝓈 ☆:・ 
> 
> Nearly a year ago, my best friend and I were playing around with story ideas, something we do constantly. I don't remember now exactly how the conversation went, but it was probably something like, "Hey, what if this character entered this other character's story? How would that change things? What would they say, what would they do?" "Pffft I dunno let's find out" "Heck yeeeeah let's do it~" 
> 
> And thus, Mirror was born. 
> 
> There are so many, and I mean _so many_ stories we've plotted out together with our characters. Alternate timelines, crazy universes, swapped perspectives... heck, name a cartoon and we've probably joked about our two girls hanging out there! But there are a few stories we've created that have always stuck with us, and this is one that was always a pleasure to come back to. 
> 
> There's some great stuff planned for this project, ideas we've mulled over for a very long time right alongside ridiculous goofs thrown in just because we're ridiculous enough to think that we're hilarious! Thanks for giving it a read, and I hope you enjoy!!

✦𝕄𝕚𝕣𝕣𝕠𝕣 | 𝕄𝕚𝕣𝕣𝕠𝕣✦

Chapter one

_ A joyful reflection _

* * *

There was no time. No time… for anything.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I shouldn’t have waited.”

Heat seared across her eyelids as she pressed them together. Not the heat of heavy air, permeating the scorching existence of this place, or the river of flames outside the ash-stained walls surrounding her. Those were inconsequential now. The heat that seared through her soul was one that welled from within, a fire of disbelief fueled by a knowledge of the truth. Tears called up by that heat clung desperately to lashes, as though feeling them manifest on her skin would somehow bring the end to pass faster than the ticking clock. She cringed when soundless sobs at last jolted them loose, stinging as they slipped down her cheeks.

Her arms clutched around the lifeless object she had personified as a confidant and friend: Demiurge, the Arch Devil NPC, Guardian of the Seventh Floor of Nazarick. She grasped tightly at his frame, letting her shoulders shudder against the cogently tactile space. He remained posed as he had been programmed, on guard in his sentried position within the Burning Temple, hands clasped behind him and a slight smile aiding a smug countenance.

Of course, the NPC couldn’t actually understand the regret she’d spoken, or her actions. She knew that. She knew having such an emotional reaction over the rendering of a creation in a game was pointless. She knew nothing here really mattered. Knew that, as so many others had alluded before leaving, it was of absolutely no importance in the grand scheme of the world. It was all nothing but pulses of light, zeroes and ones that were expert at fooling the mind into believing a false reality… one she herself had been eagerly complicit in creating. She knew that while the life she was resigning to was bleak and monotonous, crushing with the weight of debt, with the reality of hunger and exhaustion, with the struggle to find hope for the future… she knew that the sanctuary she and the others had built in this virtual landscape could never measure up to the actuality of that dark but sure world.

She knew that.

She _knew_.

But… 

Deep down, she never could bring herself to believe it.

Her time was up. Back in her home, that empty sarcophagus, she would be wrenched away from the doorway to this comfort at any moment as the electricity to her apartment was cut. She would gather the last of her belongings, leave a hard-earned living space, and crowd into a much less favorable residence, scraping together the pennies she would have happily spent on this virtual paradise to instead repay a lost relative’s last regrets. She would slave each day to its fullest to satisfy the dues their passing had defaulted to her, the deceased’s indisputably unenviable closest of kin. In face of that, she had bartered away nearly everything, even the equipment required to visit Yggdrasil, sold for funds to pacify the sharks swimming in an ocean of bills that threatened to drown her already.

Any moment now, it would be over. The company had been callously precise and clear on the exact minute the electricity would be sucked from the walls that were no longer hers. Then, she would take the last of the moving boxes into her arms, shoulder their weight down to the streets, and surrender all that she and her guild had worked for over so many years.

She’d tried to prepare herself for the emptiness of that ache. She had spent the last few weeks using a new program to copy the greatest charms of the guild, like a frozen, digitally rendered scene. A basic VR set wasn’t worth enough to sell off, and if she was careful with how she stored the data, she could have a bit from every floor of Nazarick to wander through at her heart’s content. She realized that this way, even if she had nothing left to give, she could still revisit the best of what she had. It had been a gasp of hope, a bit of warmth in the dark.

That felt like a cruel joke now.

She’d saved her very favorite NPC for last, to be the crowning moment to her gathering of strength. Waited to do that last step, stalled blindly until the very end, thinking it would be easier to have it to look forward to. And now, after all that, holding him tight while a message repeated exponentially in her menu, blaring an error tone into those last moments—

She hadn’t realized just how little time remained. She hadn’t expected her digital tools to suddenly fail in compiling this one last final copy. There was no time to find and patch code, no point in rebooting the program. No way to try again.

Which… which meant… 

This was it.

She couldn’t take him with her.

This would be the last time she ever saw him.

How many hours had she spent at his side? How many secrets had been whispered to him? How often had she come with a dilemma, playing out his assumed response to help walk her through the problem? How many times had she looked over his rendering, happy for his presence, dismissing her wishes that he could be as real and full of life as she perceived him to be?

Her fist clutched the red fabric at his back, pulling it tighter with the same urgency used to draw a shaky breath. The regret, the apology that felt proper to give for the inadequate preparation, hung in the back of her mouth. The phrase _I wish I could take you with me_ tasted rancorous as it formed.

But while thinking of what awaited, the cold of the world and the people and of everyday life, more true words escaped.

“I wish I could stay with you.”

Her chest ached.

Stupid. Childish, really. She cringed at the selfish and hopeless desire, already wishing she could shrivel into dust here and now. But then...

“And I as well,” she heard caress her ear.

The unexpected words sent a soft shudder of peace through her limbs, a sweet growl to counter the bitter plea, all aided by the steadiness of arms warming her, pulling her close. It echoed in her mind, reverberating with increasing solidity that sharply contrasted the visco̶us̴ness seeping into her surroundings. The words brought a quiet to counter the white noise razing through her heart, slowed her thoughts to a peaceful hush… but… and this felt strange but suddenly important to note… was it her that was slowing, or… was it everything else? It seemed as though… as though the world were trying to press her out from it, her form like honey, sinking downward while birds unse̸̔e̵n picked away at the edges… 

Logging out hadn’t ever felt like this before. Maybe this wasn’t the feeling of a log out, but a forced disconnection. Was this what it was like to have the electricity drain from her mind’s virtual shawl as it flickered out from her home? She’d heard it described by people who had been immersed deep into a dive-game, when their power reserve failed the same time as their backup generator as a power outage hit. She had scoured through blogs to read up on people’s experiences, to try and prepare for what these last futile moments spent in game might feel like, when the power to her home was abruptly ended at the termination time of the contracted tenancy. All the accounts she’d found said that abruptly losing a connection mid-dive evoked an involuntarily mad grasp for everything and anything, as though there was an instinctive desperation to regain something _more_. Like life itself was slipping through their fingers as their equipment shut down. It was a pretty uniform reaction across the board. Yeah, that was probably what was happen̴i̷n̴g̵̢͙͇̽.

...Was it, though?... It didn’t really _feel_ like she was grasping for “something more”. In fact, if she were to describe it, she’d want to say that it felt like something was already… ̴l̷ess. Compressed, more accur̶t̸a̵e̵ly. Also, to add to the collection of oddities, was this how time had always moved? With so li̵t̸tle… well, movement? It seemed unnatural… and as she pondered, a single moemnt lingered; it bceame ̸f̵a̴r̷ too elongated, and her̶ ̶m̵i̴n̴d̷ ̴ s̶͉̆t̶̬̅r̸͓͌t̸̡̍ē̶̝c̷̹͊h̸̫̚ĕ̷̦d̵͕͘ acrö̵͕́ss it, ̸̙̱̺͛̅l̶̼̑̓͂͘k̵̨̨͎̪̩̥͚̫͑͐͛i̴̠͐̔͂͑e̶͍̣͍͋̄͑̔͜͝ ̴̨̦̥̙̏̂ą̵̬̦̈́͠ cñ̶̛̝̤̦̅̔̓a̵̗͊v̸͙͒ǹ̸̥a̶͙͇͔̺̪̐̋͛̈́͝s̵̨̩̣̗̯̊ p̶̰̼̅u̴l̶e̵l̷d̵ h̷r̷̸̵͎̺͔̜̓̐ä̵̶̸͔̙͈̼̊̅͒̀͝ͅd̸ a̷̤̍r̶͙͝c̵̺̒s̷̫̍o̶̼̒s̶̱̅ a f̵̙̪̼͎̙̾r̸̪̬͎̬̺͖̜̯̰̺̽̏m̵̘̭͙̘̹̱̣̑̐̑̇̑͘͝å̷͓̣͎̌͒̒͗̇̿̈́̚è̴͉̗͉̳̱̣̫͋͜͝— ỉ̸̱̬̂t̵̨͕̄̽̊͂̅͝—̸̭͕͇̪̤͉͊̀͆̈́̽ _h ̴̥̟͓̼͗̿̏͊ ̶̨̛͔͇͗̃͂̆urt ̴͎͖͂̏̆̈́̋ ̴̣̳̤̦̑̿͛͝͝ ̸̟̺̝̭̙̆̈́̃̄̐̉̽ ̶̡̟̞̀̾ ̸̹̠̄̂̌̚͝ ̷̖̝̼͘ ̵͉̅̕ ̷̛̞̈́̈́̔̈́̾ ̴̬̜͓̱̾͛̓̈́ ̷̧̞̳̜̩̟͎̳̮͍̱̜̝͓̟̜̠͑͊̑̈́̎͑̎̽̔͌̆̅͑͝ ̴̡̥̭̱̮͔̠̇̾̆̈́͊̑̒͌̏̕ ̴̷̢̧̧̺͕̗̟̣͖̝͔͈̄͐̌̋̿̌́̍͛̑̑̈́̇̃̔̾̕͜͝ͅͅ—_

_—Black—_

…… 

Her mind held nothing.

It was flat, a waiting surface, unstirred by any method of interaction.

She felt no worry. No confusion as to her circumstance. No wondering at the sudden impossible response of the devil that had held her. No comprehension of how wonderful those arms had felt. She didn’t feel the passage of the hours and days and weeks that flowed by, empty of any change in her own state.

She also didn’t react to the ticking over her being, an endless but progressive increase, observing her existence, growing in its loom over her. But grow it did; it shaped itself to comprehend what she was—no, what she had been, what she still contained—and only when it mirrored that echo as a space within, quantified to cup that precise form, did it at last disturbed the restricted soul as though that were the only thing it had ever been made to do.

The dimensions she inhabited suddenly burst from one to three.

An urgent gasp overfilled her lungs and she wheezed into a fit of coughs, stumbling forward from the absence of a support she hadn’t realized her posture relied on, one missing from the space that rapidly existed once again. Knees catching her weight, her hands palmed the ground, chest begging for air as eyes flinched against the salty remains of tears, tracks still drying on her cheeks. She could hear her own frantic gulps, see the rocky floor, feel even the subtle rumble of a distant disturbance as it’s cause sent its heat through the air to kiss her skin… 

She heard the stammer of her first reaction before realizing it was her that voiced it, blinking like a camera with a visual stutter as she tried to slow the rush of sensation.

“Oooooooooohkay… Whewww, that… geez, wh-whut is….”

She couldn’t get the words out coherently, but in a way, it was cathartic to hear her own confusion. It sounded real, familiar and grounding… if slightly different than how it seemed like her voice should sound. But that was probably just the stress.

This was _not_ her empty apartment. She was pretty darn sure on that, anyways. No boxes of meager belongings were scattered at her feet, and no darkness of a room void of electricity clouded her sight. The floor beneath her belonged to a place she could have sworn she knew, but… never before had it pressed this way against the base of her hands. Never had she felt this atmosphere warm the flesh of her lungs as she raggedly dragged a gulp of it in. She shouldn’t be feeling _any_ of those things. This place shouldn’t feel that real.

Her mind flashed in a memory of its last intake, the calming words and reinforcing embrace. How tightly and securely she’d been held, how the hum of the words had evaporated her stress. Those… those shouldn’t have been possible either.

What in the world was going on?!

This place couldn’t seriously be authentic. There was just no way. It couldn’t be the genuine artifact, not with all this added so seamlessly over the formatted base code. But… it was far too intimate of a retelling of the Burning Temple for someone else to have made it over again. She couldn’t believe that was possible either. So… Most likely? This was all just a stroke. Or some sort of dream state in a coma. Or, possibly! Maybe she’d died, and Ulbert’s vision of Hell was way more accurate than anyone had ever expected.

Huh... Hell. While Ulbert would probably be quite proud of his artistic vision being proven correct, it would kinda stink if that were really where she was. But in order to be in Hell, that would first require that would require that it was real, and she wasn’t solidly sure on that one. And second, had she really done anything so awful that it would warrant her getting sent to Hell?? Well, other than having been in the infamously evil guild of Ainz Ooal Gown. She’d been a member for more than enough years to gank… well, plenty of players with her friends in order to collect their gear and items. Then there was also how she worked for an evil corporation; the fact that _everyone_ worked for evil corporations didn’t change that. Oh, and there was also that time she got a twenty instead of a ten back as change and didn’t tell the cashier about their mistake, or how she lied once to get a sick day because her team was scheduled to pitch a project at the same time as a guild raid, or—

Ok, yeah, so there were a few reasons she could think of. Yeah, then this could totally be Hell! Why not? She chuckled; at least the torture here would probably be less painful than her day job. Shifting her weight, gravel dug into her palms as she contemplated the subtle differences between having her skin slowly grated off and having to spell check her boss’s quarterly report—

Something alive brushed her hand.

The screech was immediate. A loud rush of air batted at her back as she shot away from the direction of the touch, head whipping to find whatever had grabbed for her, sensation following in sync, adrenaline still pumping—… as she did a double take. And then a triple take, just for good measure.

Two left hands, _two of them,_ a vivid shade of sky, tumbled and then froze before her eyes. At first her mind dismissed them as a known fact. After all, she’d seen them in this environment for years, having chosen them as an attribute of Zoba the Djinn in the game Yggdrasil. Hesitantly touching one hand to the other, thumb to pinky, she felt her own nerves confirm sensation in both appendages. An insincere chuckle bubbled from her throat. This… this couldn’t be real. It obviously couldn’t be.

“No. There is no flippin’ way,” she whispered, shaking her head at the ridiculousness of what her mind was trying to piece together. She felt the nervous energy rising up like a tide, both gluing her to the ground and begging to pick a direction and _run_.

The air behind her stirred the same way it had when her hands brushed, and she looked back, noticing wings— _wings_ —twitching in the built-up apprehension. They splayed out as she yelped accusingly at them as well, two living muppets in harmony with her distress. Chiming sounded as she stumbled to get her feet underneath her, and she could almost hear a jeer in the bright sound:

“ _Look at Zoba, brought to life! Wings at her back, four arms spry, anklets of bells at her feet! Because of course, that’s how she was made! That’s what she wished, wasn’t it? Remember? Didn’t you yearn to stay here, to be like this? Why are you so confused at that fulfillment, little djinn?_ ”

There was so much— So much more than the non-existent empty that had inhabited her, just before the stumble to the ground. Her wings curled in overhead, hiding the world from her eyes as she strained to narrow down the number of things her brain had to process.

Even trying to steady her breath was bewildering. She was breathing—breathing!—in a body of the avatar she’d molded in a virtual world. A world that was filled with fire and rock and magma… The air that entered her mouth and nose was laden with sulfur and smoke, and she found herself dusting her face with wingtips, letting their smell— _her_ smell—overtake that sharp reminder she wasn't quite ready for yet.

It was a kind aroma of mint and jasmine, like a warm tea held close to her lips while a woven ring of flowers hung over her bare neck. It was subtle, yet danced out as one of her hands lifted to ruffle the white feathers, golden caps springing back into place as the tips of her fingers moved among them. She relaxed as she gripped the living down, becoming a blanket of comfort unto herself.

She hadn’t needed the wings, really; they were an aesthetic that she’d allowed herself in the development of this character. There were stat bonuses that came with them, but Djinn were already specked with a limited flying ability. The feathery additions served as an extension to those, and while they did increase movement and agility, in the end she could have easily gone with another class attribute that would have made much more sense for her target build. Gills for better swimming, a higher defensive class, merchant expertise… there had been a lot of tempting avenues. But, she had seen the wings and immediately the word _angel_ struck her mind. It was impossible to resist the irony, considering the nefarious reputation of her guild. Peroronchino had lauded the choice, pointing out his own wings and spamming the guild chat relentlessly with the tease that he must have been her oh-so-secretly coveted muse, at which point she began to wonder if she’d made a horrible, horrible mistake in passing up the gills.

But right now? She was grateful for the giant white monstrosities. They offered shelter, even if it was a shelter that displayed her dilemma rather starkly… but it was a gentler, less concerning view than the bleak stone walls she found herself within. Here, behind the gold-tipped down, she could process one strange thing at a time.

Ok. So. She wasn't back in her apartment. That felt pretty confirmed at this point, for starters. Whatever had occurred, it hadn’t ended with returning to that wretched, debt-laden life. She should be happy about that, right? She should really be shouting for joy! Hallelujah, thank the devs, she didn’t have to live a doomed existence! Wow, what an impossible blessing, wasn’t it? A mind-blowing stroke of luck!

But that immediate dismissal of caution set her teeth on edge. Maybe this wasn’t even meant to last. Maybe she would wake up at her desk in moments, keyboard smashed to a cheek, supervisor berating her for dreaming of something more than getting printouts of meeting minutes to the appropriate desks. And on the other hand, what if it was? If this was her life, if this body was hers… if this all was really the game she had played… 

Why was she all alone? Why wasn’t Demiurge at his station? What if it was only her and the seventh floor that existed, none of the other frills of her guild base or NPCs, or any access to other players? The interface menu was missing, but with how it had been blaring before all this, she was almost grateful for it’s absence. At least it couldn’t do more damage if it was gone.

She should look at her surroundings again. She should get up, walk outside this room, try to find someone, anyone. … And also, pray that if this was in fact the Great Tomb of Nazarick, the guild base which no invading party had ever been able to conquer, that she would register as a friendly if she did cross someone’s path. If that happened, and she didn’t… she could easily find herself in the most terrifying (and probably the last) fight of her life. She wasn’t built to be a single-player party and even with as familiar as everything seemed, this could be a whole new world. She didn’t dare close her eyes to that danger.

When at last her breathing slowed to a controlled rhythm, she peeked out. A haze of smoke slightly tinted the air above, and occasionally a small floating spark would bear witness to the fires raging within and without the river bed outside. Yup, she confirmed methodically to herself, this was the Burning Temple. She knew these walls better than any other place in Nazarick, and though the detail felt truer than ever, they were unmistakable. That was good, she decided. If nothing else, at least she was in a location she understood, somewhere she could navigate with confidence. …And knowing that, she also knew that the more time she wasted cowering in here, the more danger she’d be in. It was definitely time to get moving. Shaking the fear out of her hands and cheeks puffing out in a courage-rallying breath, she pushed her wings out to widen her vision, prepared to stand—

A voice.

She almost let out a peep of fright at the noise.

Someone whispered a word in the hallway, just outside the room she was within. It was feminine, a low chirp with an edge of spirited radiance, but the use of it now was cautious. Courage quickly fleeing, wings backed inward to shape her form like shields, petrified at what might be approaching. Shoot, had she waited too long?! Was it an ash-siren, or maybe a demon patrol? If there was just the one she could survive without a problem, but if it or others called for help… Ohhhh, she was so dead. She was gonna die right here, this was bad—her build was made for support! She wasn't even wearing her good gear!! Before the end, she’d given just about everything to— Wait—she hadn’t given up everything, did she still have—?

A hand fumbled till it found a dagger equipped at a hip. She grasped it tightly at the hilt, wondering through her hazy relief whether or not the meager fighting abilities she’d neglected in her character build would count for anything in this reality. Anxiety darted across her mind to ever so helpfully remind her that there was nowhere to hide in this room. She steeled herself against what was looming around the corner, against whatever might happen next. It could very easily be her death.

Then she heard another voice. And this voice… it was… 

She couldn’t have known it, right? At least, she thought not. Not as far as her panicked mind could connect. She couldn’t think of any logical place she would have heard the smooth hum that echoed in the air. Didn’t know from where she would have recognized the manner in which it caused words to flow through a carefully choreographed dance.

But still, it felt familiar. It felt like… like it could be… 

She didn’t think her eyes could grow any wider than adrenaline had made them. But as his silhouette entered the doorway, she felt them enlarge to take it all in: the impossible fluidity, the displayed feeling, the flicking tail. The red suit.

Stiffly he took a step forward, and as he did the leg behind him collapsed to a knee. The thud caused her to flinch inward, back to her makeshift shields. She hadn’t even noticed that the protection had fallen away while she gawked at him. Sight now even with hers, he bowed his head while daring to remain connected to her gaze, as though losing it might mean losing track of the woman herself. His eyes were wide as well, the flickering orange light in the air hardly dissuading them from their pale-blue crystal as they gaped behind round silver frames. The tailored suit tightened across his chest, shirt and tie remaining immaculate against overexerted breaths. His tail was halted, aside from an occasional twitch, segments surprisingly silent despite the substantial metal that formed them. As she felt an inaudible gasp of shock shake her, his black gloved hand raised over his heart, clutching at the fabric between him and the organ. She felt her mind struggle to understand as she watched. What was that look on his handsome face, why was it expressing such vitality and yearning? How?! This was definitely, absolutely insane. It shouldn’t be able to do that. Like her hands feeling the touch of pinky to thumb, like her wings fluttering across the sulfuric air, it _should not_ be able to do that.

Demiurge should not be real.

“My Lady,” she heard him say, the words almost rough as he forced them from his throat, “… Forgive an impudent doubt, but— Logic dictates that this truly must be a mere aberration! A conspiracy against perception. Or… ” He raised his head further, his frame seemingly restrained from leaping forth. Another figure had appeared in the doorway, but she couldn’t break from his gaze to see who it could be. His eyes held her in place, kept the knife at her side in its sheath, pulled her wings away from their sheltering curl, all without any request on their part. The next words didn’t come with the sound of questioning doubt he claimed, but with the solidity of a declaration. 

“Our Lady Zoba. Have you with authenticity… somehow returned to us?”

She looked back, wanting to express elation at seeing him, or a kinship at shared disbelief, or even to ask what exactly was happening. He was speaking to her, somehow speaking and _expecting her to answer_. Oh right—she should reply, that was the right thing to do. C’mon, just one coherent sentence, that was all that was needed. Form something _half_ as dignified as what he’d just said. She shaped her lips around a few consonants before at last, the only phrase her overwhelmed brain could string together spilled from her mouth in a stutter, the devil awaiting them with an anticipatory fervor.

“Demiurge… Wwwwh-whu— ah retur…??”

Ok, that admittedly was pretty unintelligible. Wow, she really was struggling with the whole saying words thing today, wasn’t she? But, she could still save this! If she couldn’t rustle up the ability to sound dignified, then maybe— maybe a joke, or a pun! That seemed doable, puns were great! Total ice breakers, super easy.

“Hhhhhhow, the hell? —Is here??”

She felt a smile creak and flee across her face as Demiurge’s ears twitched towards her in an attempt at decipherment.

Oof. Wow. Nope. Maybe she should have forgone the pun and just accepted the fail. She doubted even Demiurge with all the intelligence attributed to him could make sense of that many garbled sentences.

Well… As completely overwhelming as this was, and mortifying to boot… 

At least it was still better than a day at the office.

* * *

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ・:☆ 𝒜𝓊𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓇𝓈 𝒩𝑜𝓉𝑒𝓈 ☆:・ 
> 
> Who's ready for Holly's perspective?? Onward!!
> 
> Oh, but before that... Download, my dear biffle, could you maybe pretty please add some links for tumblr and all that good stuff below this since I don't know what I'm doing? Cool thanks you're the best byeeee~
> 
> _I've gotchu fam._ ( ͡~ ͜ʖ ͡°) Ahem! 
> 
> [ Child of Jörmungandr Tumblr](https://download077.tumblr.com/) and [ Real Life on the Seventh Floor Tumblr ](https://reallifeonthetheseventhfloor.tumblr.com/) \- Follow us for updates, Overlord Content, Artwork, Incorrect quotes, and other Overlord related shenanigans! 


	2. uoıʇɔǝlɟǝɹ lnɟʎoɾ ∀

✧𝕄𝕚𝕣𝕣𝕠𝕣 | 𝕄𝕚𝕣𝕣𝕠𝕣✧

Chapter two

_uoıʇɔǝlɟǝɹ lnɟʎoɾ ∀  
_

* * *

Holly’s heart thunders in her chest as she high tails it through the Mangrove forest. It’s with every step that she takes, no, _demands_ from herself that her thighs burn with the ache of exhaustion. Holy shit, this is crazy! Ugh! The woodlands are dark and no matter where she turns clusters of leaves and other things keep smacking into her or obscuring her path forward. As a result of this, her armor is currently a total wreck and littered with scuffs, dirt, and the like. 

Branches snap off of her shoulder guards as she races through them, shoving them out of her way with a flail of her hands. Faster damn it, faster! Ignoring the sharp pain biting at her sides, and with one hand on Kingslayer (Adept) and another swung around a tree trunk, Holly uses her momentum to fling herself up and into the woods to catch a damn breather.

 _Oh my god._ Holly’s breaths are ragged, husky, and she sounds like a toad trying to gargle sand as she tosses herself against the body of the tree. Her chest is heaving. Heart beat in her ears. Sweat dampening the pads of her armor. For this reason, Holly closes her eyes and tilts her head back as she focuses on steadying her breath. 

Only once she’s calmed does she open her eyes and peek up and through the canopy above. The sixth floor's night sky winks back like a cavern rich with glistening clusters of nebula quartz. It’s pretty. Almost like she could reach up and take a star for herself.

Holly releases a winded sigh. 

Okay. Okay, now that she has a sec to actually freakin’ _think_ , maybe if she--!?

Lurching forward, Holly clutches a tree branch as what feels like a stampede of bulls heading her direction rattles the safety of her hideout. Holy shit, already?! Muttering a few curse words, Holly bolts to the ground, and mid free fall she catches a glimpse of crimson plated armor with gold trimming.

Son of a bitc--!

“Hallo, Winterb--!”

“[Greater Teleportation]!” Holly squeals as Pandora’s Actor’s voice booms upon discovering her location. Just as her body twists in a weightless rush to then transport her to the arena, Holly hears Pandora’s Actor muffle a winded sound of disappointment. 

Holly’s back smacks against the amphitheater flooring as she warps in. _Ouch._ Seething through grit teeth, she scrambles to her feet. Eyes darting from left to right, Holly scans the tightly woven forest for movement to try and steal a clue of where he might come crashing in from.

Shit! She’s got no idea as to where he could be. It’s not like she exactly has the time to be sure anyways, so any guess is as good as any right now. With a snap of her wrist she thrusts Kingslayer (Adept) forward, gripping at the handle as the leather brays under the tightening of her grasp. 

With a deep breath, Holly steadies her stance. One foot forward and the other turned slightly outward. Another deep breath. A gust in the stadium kicks up. Dust clouds twirl in a drift around her feet.

The coming of a storm brews inside of her. The funnel clouds of raw power that reside somewhere between her heart and soul rush through Holly’s blood. Emerald smoke accompanied by a shower of sparks dance across the arena.

Howling wind. The weight of her coming spell sinks her greaves into the ground with a _crunch_ that delivers fissure lines in every direction. Inhale. The sclera of Holly’s reptilian eyes leaks into green fumes that trail from the corners of her tear ducts. 

Release the exhale. Kingslayer (Adept) brims with sizzles of lightning. The knowledge of understanding that her cast time is complete hits Holly like a joke grenade. Heh, it was something a teacher told her once. Think of it this way. Ever have someone tell you a joke and you not get it at first? Then, days later, out of nowhere you just start laughin’ your ass off with realization? Like, holy shit?! How did you not get that at first?! It’s like that. That’s her awareness and it just clicked.

Now, all she has to do is say the words.

  
  


[Master at Arms]

  
  
The Conservation of Mass-Energy dictates that matter cannot be created nor destroyed.

However, that? Well. _That_ was back in the old world.

Three mock copies of Kingslayer (Adept) melt into reality, forming to encircle Holly’s torso. Holographic in appearance, these mirrors of her blade can be used as a defensive means to dissuade enemies from getting too close…

 _Or_ they can be used as deadly projectiles that’re each infused with the magical debuff [Armor Piercing]. The [Armor Piercing] debuff does just that. It pierces through armor.

No shit. 

Holly hones her craft as she embraces the swords’ movements as extensions of her body. Flexing her fingers, she can feel the blades energy as they nip at her nerves and twitch with life. Sweet, so that’s how they work! Smirking as she widens her stance, Holly releases Kingslayer (Adept) to hover before her as the leader of the pack of blades encircling her body.

Nervous energy delivers a tremor to Holly’s breath. All of her hair stands on edge as tree’s begin to crash down the center of the forest that skirt the arena. They collapse like rows of dominoes as they’re carved into a valley while a charging Pandora’s Actor, moving faster than anyone his size should, reveals himself from the woodlands.

“Go get em'!” Holly flings both hands forward. Kingslayer (Adept) launches like an arrow, whistling as it cuts the air. A second later the three copies of her blade chase after Kingslayer (Adept) in pursuit.

Spinning together in a helical silver blur the blades speed towards Pandora. Without a moment to spare, Pandora kicks off of the ground. Like bleeding paint his body slips between the blades as he shifts from Warrior Takemikazuchi’s to Nishikienrai’s form. 

Holly’s left eye twitches. Clever bastard. With a twist of his newly thinned torso Pandora back flips over the real Kingslayer (Adept), grasps the hilt, and thrusts it towards the ground. The mock copies bend in a horseshoe loop to chase and strike their new target. Ugh! Holly stomps her feet at the same time they hit the stadium flooring and disperse into bouncing motes of light. 

“Aww! C’mon! That was so freakin’ cheap!” 

Upon landing, Pandora retrieves Kingslayer (Adept) from it's wedge in the ground and swings it over his shoulder as he struts forward. “Haha! Why, liebling! Perhaps it is that I did not wish to be abolished from this very plane of existence!” 

Scrunched up with a scowl, Holly crosses her arms over her chest while Pandora chuckles. “Ohh, Winterberry! Come now, how you pain me so with such treacherous body language! Such drama that canvases your expression! Surely it was not your intention to actually cut me down to size?”

With an upturn of her nose, Holly flags her tail. Hmph! Ehhh, who is she tryin’ to kid. The hint of a smirk twitches at her lips. He _knows_ she’s just messing with him. “I mean, you totally coulda let one of them hit you to make me feel better.”

“I would not dare to dream to insult you in such a manner,” Pandora moves to rest Kingslayer (Adept) across his hands in a presentation to Holly.

Reaching over the swords hilt, Holly massages her fingers into Pandora’s palm. “You think that was okay?”

“Okay?!” Pandora gasps as he leaps back while thrusting Kingslayer (Adept) into the air. Wielding Holly’s sword like a fence man, Pandora dashes forward in a line, blade humming as he pokes and prods at an invisible target. “Winterberry! The very way in which you dance with your armament quells my gifted soul and stirs a rouse in me in ways that only you can!”

Did...did he just insinuate that [Master at Arms] turns him on? Oh _god_. Holly covers her mouth to mask her giggling as Pandora continues to shower her with compliments. He’s so good at that, so sweet, and since casting [Approach of the second sun] she’s been feeling a lot better about herself. And she should!

You see, she’s been setting goals for herself. A while ago she made relations with the Lizard Men and she’s got plans to revisit them as soon as she reaches Adamantite with the adventurers guild. And Adamantite? Pfft. That’s next on her list. Furthermore, she can already cross out Carne village cause everything went well. Better than expected, actually! She did more than she sought out to do and she can’t wait to talk things over with Momonga. That and with her magic finally at her disposal? 

..Maybe...maybe she really is cut out to be a supreme being. 

Which is why she finds herself on the sixth floor sparring with Pandora’s Actor. If she’s gonna fulfill the role? She wants to be her best for it. Tip top shape, ya know? Instead of plotting a course back towards the Re-Estize kingdom, Holly decided to follow through with Momonga’s advice and head back to Nazarick to practice casting her higher tier spells. 

Heh. If the villagers in E-Rantel thought [Approach of the Second Sun] heralded the end, what would they think of--

Holly adjusts her footing as Pandora slides Kingslayer (Adept) into her scabbard. With a soft _thanks_ , she wiggles the clasp on her belt loop to settle her blade in. Then as Pandora throws an arm behind him in a bow the tip of her tail wiggles.

Pandora’s fingers dance at his chest against one another as he rises from his bow. The dark plum cloth that shields his face flutters as he breathes out, “I would ask something of you, my love.”

“Anything,” The word rolls off her tongue as if it were a token of love she could wrap up and give to him. Holly reaffirms her answer with a smile before she whispers, truthfully, “Anything.”

Pandora clasps one hand over the other as he nestles them over his heart. His shoulders jump into a shimmy as he pleads, “[Usurpation of Fire]? It is within my highest of hopes that you would gift me with such a vision of a victorious incantation! Most unfortunately, I am incapable of replicating the passionate verdant flames that--”

“Indeed. It is quite a sight to behold,” The snuff of arcane ash infiltrates the air as black flames claim the space to Holly’s right before shaping into the seventh floor guardian. 

“Lady Holly,” Demiurge offers in greeting.

“Heyyy,” With a quick sidestep to the left, Holly snaps her posture straight. She fiddles with Kingslayer (Adept)’s hilt as a means of relinquishing the burst of anxiety that has just dropped her stomach damn near out of her ass. 

She…she hasn't seen him since the shipyard in Baharuth.

Well. Here we go.

Each step Pandora’s Actor takes towards Holly’s direction he rearranges his borrowed body back into his original form. He stretches his arms skyward as his uniform crawls over Nishinkenrai’s armor before launching a hand up to his cap. “Ah comrade! Truly, let it be known that it is always such a pleasure! Now, prithee do tell, what brings you unto our divine ladies presence at such a time?”

Demiurge removes his glasses. Breathing a wash of warm air over them, he rubs them clean before sliding them up the bridge of his nose. Then he smirks. “It was my intent to hold counsel with Lady Holly over our proceedings regarding the next step in project Gehenna.”

“My apologies then, Demiurge! At this very moment, it is utterly paramount that Lady Holly continues her proceedings with me, here, on the center stage of the sixth floor. For you see--”

“It’s fine, Pandora,” Holly grunts as she wiggles her helmet off of her head and stows it under an arm. Pffft. She shakes her face free from her hair. Now then. As she fights the urge to wrap her tail around an ankle, she takes the opportunity to instead fill her lungs. Back straight. Gotta let confidence roll off of her shoulders. She’s a supreme being now! S-She’s always _been_ one; It’s time to act like it. 

Holly draws a line between Pandora’s Actor and Demiurge with her eyes. A part of her wonders what they think of her right now. Biting back that question as she ruffles up her posture, Holly noisily clears her throat. 

“Hey Pandora, I need you to get into contact with Aura and Mare. Have them clear up the floor from our training,” Holly pauses as Pandora snaps a hand up to his cap. A smile tickles her lips. Ya know, she wants to thank him for always being the one to let her practice her leadership skills with..

Just as she reaches for his hand she pulls herself away. Damn it. PDA ain’t exactly appropriate given the circumstance. With a swing of her arm behind her back, Holly directs her stare up in thought. That’s right, just make a stoic face. Don’t blush. Sure Demiurge knows that she and Pandora do the horizontal mambo but…No one knows that the both of them are in a relationship.

She’s not ready for anyone to know that just yet.

“We’ve uh, been gone from Nazarick for about a week. Go ahead and head back to the Treasury for now and make sure that everything’s in order. For the time being, Project Gehenna needs my attention since I’m gonna be involved and,” _I love you. I’m gonna miss you_ , “I’ll [Message] for you when I can.”

The base of Holly’s tail clenches tight as her brows crease. No. Don’t look at him. She’s weak and will want a hug. C’mon, what did she expect? He can’t always be with her. Pandora’s still the Treasuries area guardian and Holly’s second in command to Nazarick. As things move forward..

Holly’s heart sinks.

“I understand, mein Kommandant! With utmost haste and due diligence I will see to it that your divine! Aha, nein! That your celestial will is carried out!” 

Pandora strides forward. As one of his fingertips brush along Holly’s arm he slaps a firm hand upon Demiurge’s shoulder. In return, Demiurge just kinda stares at him as Pandora blasts him with an earful. “For now I leave our crown jewel in your capable hands, my good fellow!”

Demiurge’s ears twitch. “A pleasure as always, Pandora’s Actor.”

Pandora gives Demiurge a sharp nod of his head. With bidding farewell to Demiurge out of the way, he spins to face Holly and takes one of her hands into his larger ones. A smile colors her face as Pandora hovers his mouth over her fingers, hot breath tickling her skin as he breathes, “Ich liebe dich, meine strahlende Blume. Bis zum nächsten Mal.” 

I love you. Something, um, flower. And...she doesn’t know what the rest means. He hasn’t taught her those words. Not yet, at least.

Holly’s smile melts away as Pandora slips through her fingers and vanishes with the activation of his guild ring. Normally, the air is thin and cold after a cast of [Greater Teleportation]. By way of contrast as she walks through the space Pandora was just in, it feels warm.

_Sigh._

Holly stows her helmet into her inventory as she takes steps towards the seventh floor. Following that action, she flicks her wrist and changes into some more casual clothing. Steel and Demiurge’s floor don’t exactly mix. Gotta love the convenience of magic. Back to jeans we go!

Yet....something about the situation sets Holly’s teeth on edge and has her hands folded over her tail in the same way Demiurge does his. Maybe it’s his formality. Maybe it’s to try to persuade him of a facade she’s desperately trying to fulfill. Maybe it’s that he knows her darkness better than anyone else; Better than herself.

Holly glances over her shoulder. “Wanna go for-- Oh. Hi, uh, yeahh. Let’s walk.”

He’s already behind her, to the right, and two steps behind.

“Thank you for granting my request, Lady Holly.”

  
  


* * *

[Atonement of flame]

Much better.

Ya know, Holly wonders as Demiurge goes over Project Gehenna’s next steps if the ripples in the River of Fire might be Guren. What equally has her curious, is why Demiurge even needed her in the first place. He has everything figured out down to a meticulous detail and all she finds herself doing is nodding or agreeing with him.

Every few steps geysers shoot towards the sulfuric sky of the seventh floor. Magma sprays in cones and sizzles upon slapping the cobblestone path that leads to the Burning Temple. Bubbling lava fills the silence following Demiurge’s last question.

_“If I may turn the conversation to a more personal note, how have you been faring as of late?”_

She doesn’t know how to tell him that she feels like a cauldron of mixed emotions. A little bit of anxiety, a dash of new found pride, a pinch of _you know what I’ve done_ , a shake of guilt, and a sprinkle of pressure. Ya know, the usual. For cryin’ out loud, she thinks there might be some chopped carrots in there.

Holly keeps her focus locked on the ground as she becomes a passenger in her own body. Just moving with the traffic and Demiurge is the vehicle she’s been following for miles. As a way of alleviating some nervous energy, Holly nudges debris into the River of Fire. _Splash!_ Lava sprays up after a particularly large hunk of stone and casts a glint across her ridiculously red shoes--

...

...Wait a second.

A mischievous smile peels Holly’s lips back. “Ya know, uh...not bad, actually. I did get some new shoes.” 

“I noticed.” 

Holly leans in with a smirk. “Do you like them?”

“...If you find them adequate, then I take no issue with their design.”

“Demiurge, they’re horrible.”

“Lady Holly, they are not simply horrible. They are garishly dreadful.”

Holly smacks a hand against her chest as she tilts skyward and laughs, “Aww! I thought you liked them, though?!”

Demiurge glances towards her feet as he flicks his tongue over one of his fangs. “Am I safe in the presumption that Pandora’s Actor crafted those?”

“Look. He was so excited when he made them; I couldn’t tell him no!”

Demiurge slides his glasses down the bridge of his nose. Holly’s cheesy expression winks across his slit crystals as he gives her _that_ look. You know the one. The one that says I’m not gonna say what I’m thinking but you totally know what I’m thinking.

Holly waves a hand his direction as if she were chasing away a pesky fly. “Yeah yeahhh. Anyways though, really I’ve been uh….not bad. Yeahh. How have you been?”

“My lady,” Demiurge purrs. The corners of his lips curve up as his tail reaches over to brush against Holly’s. As a result, Holly’s shoulders relax as she softens her approach with him. This is still Demiurge, after all. This is still her guardian, this is still--

Demiurge’s tail drops against the floor. _Thunk._ He stops cold in his tracks as the color drains from his face. Confusion sweeps over Holly. Whoa. The hell just happened? Reaching for his claw, as soon as she makes contact she curls her fingers around his thumb.

“Demiurge..?” Holly gulps. “ Hey, are you..?” He says nothing. He says nothing as she scans him over and he looks like the first time she ever saw him. Like an NPC. It’s as if his mind has been wiped blank and he’s no longer a living guardian. 

“Demi…?” Kinda feels like her soul has left her body as she dares to inch closer, moving to place a hand upon his forehead. 

Instinct has her checking his temperature. Admittedly she finds it kinda silly as she touches the back of her hand against his brow until his eyes bug out from the contact. Holly nearly jumps back in alarm as Demiurge shakes whatever the Hell was wrong with him out of his system, yet she keeps her fingers curled around his thumb. Taking in a sharp inhale, Demiurge without warning smacks his hand up to his chest. His claw clenches, twitching while his talons rake over the handkerchief tucked neatly into his breast pocket.

Okay then. So this is new.

“Hey,” Conjuring up her best motherly tone, Holly dips her head into a slow, calming nod. She uh, can’t even begin to guess what his deal is right now, but she’s here for him regardless. Maybe he forgot about some paperwork, or something? Demiurge is the type to possibly lose his cool over not getting work done. “It’s gonna be okay. Kay?”

Demiurge’s nostrils flare as he snaps his attention between Holly and the Burning Temple. Something...something she doesn’t quite understand jumps across his eyes. “I-I would ask that you would accompany me.” 

Breathless. Desperate. Holly squeezes the hand now digging into his chest as if he’s trying to rip himself open so he can get through to his heart. Just as she nods her head again that, yes, of course she’ll go with him, he launches off towards the Burning Temple.

Holly’s hand tears away from Demiurge and flies to her side as she chases after him. 

Demiurge takes the steps up to the Blazing Temple four at a time. Fuck! He’s so damn fast, but nevertheless she speeds after him. Shorter legs and a lack of points put into agility keep her at jumping two, but still, it only takes a matter of seconds before she can see the torn entrance of the temple. 

Stumbling up the last few steps, Holly makes it to the top just as Demiurge’s tail slips through a hole in the temple. Holly follows in pursuit, shoving a support beam out of her way that she probably should have ducked under. More than a few crashes sound off behind her. Whatever. She doesn’t care. 

Demiurge halts, holding in the door frame leading to the Burning Temple’s collection chamber, the vault of Baphomet. Holly tosses herself against the wall adjacent to him to catch her breath. D-Damn. This is the second time today she’s felt like she’s been made to run for her life. 

Cinders scatter around Demiurge as he collapses to a knee. His chest rumbles with a choke that he disguises with a clearing of his throat. Holly heard it, though. She heard it and it hit her straight in the heart _. It hit hard._ It hit hard like a damn bolt of lightning laced with an eternity of grief all twisted up in a single sound.

A whimper. 

“Hey…” Holly offers while she hovers a hand over his back. As she ghosts over his blazer, palms clinging to the static of his flannel, she stops. She just stops.

She catches a glimpse of what has his attention and it slides down her spine like cold oil. 

_Ohhh my god_.

Demiurge says something. Holly can’t hear him, though. Not over the sound of her heart thudding between her ears. 

Pearlescent feathers with gold trim hover over a woman kneeling in the center of the room. Tenting her wings over herself like a tree canopy, she peers through them, and her eyes catch Holly’s. In return, Holly’s mind short circuits. Ivory sclera, iris’s so blue they shine teal, and milky pupils flicker between Holly and Demiurge. Two arms hold her breasts. Another two are wrapped tight around her stomach.

Even in the quiet of the Burning Temple everything about her screams that she’s freaking’ terrified. Not gonna lie? Holly is, as well.

How is this happening...While Holly’s head starts to swim, a bit dizzy from what’s going on, she takes notice of the woman’s sheer skirt and how it spills over her thighs. In response the woman reaches a hand down, one of four, to pull at the cloth in a desperate attempt to conceal herself. In the movement her sapphire skin reflects off of the dozens of shattered vases, offering receptacles, and tossed about coins scattered about the room.

Holly brushes a finger along one of her horns as she gazes at the woman before her. Four. Two segmented ram-like horns protrude from an ever flowing ethereal mist of hair. The others rise from the crown of her head, and look like Holly’s if they were shorter.

She...oh my god, she knows this woman. Well, she doesn’t know _know_ her. She more or less knows of her. And as Holly looks at Demiurge, she quickly pieces together that he understands who this is as well. 

Holly pulls her hand from ghosting over Demiurge to clutch the door frame. Steadying herself, Holly realizes within an instant just how well Demiurge knows this woman.

..S-She knows that look.

It’s how she looks at Pandora’s Actor.

* * *

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ・:*☆ 𝒜𝓊𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓇𝓈 𝒩𝑜𝓉𝑒𝓈 ☆*:・ 
> 
> Kensalyn and I have talked about this story for well over a year now. As she previously stated, I'm not sure how this all came to be. This story (among many others) was at one time nothing more than innocent musings at 3am when the both of us refused to go to bed because of the notorious question _what if_. It's surreal seeing this finally published, to be honest. Kensalyn and I have written so damn much together and again, it's just... so surreal to see something up and concrete on AO3 from the two of us. 
> 
> So. Ya'll know how Kensalyn said in her authors notes last chapter about how we've talked about the girls in other various shows? We have. My favorites so far have for SURE been Deadman wonderland and Soul Eater. _Especially_ the Deadman wonderland one. I mean, seriously. Holly, Mira, Pan, and Demiurge in a maximum security prison that's ran as a death carnival? Good shit. Good shit, indeed. 
> 
> [ Child of Jörmungandr Tumblr](https://download077.tumblr.com/) and [ Real Life on the Seventh Floor Tumblr ](https://reallifeonthetheseventhfloor.tumblr.com/) \- Follow us for updates, Overlord Content, Artwork, Incorrect quotes, and other Overlord related shenanigans! 
> 
> Now for a little story talk! Ohhhh _shit._ Here we go! How will a new supreme being entering the great underground tomb of Nazarick change the story? What will Momonga think? The floor guardians? Will Holly and Zoba even get along? 
> 
> Until next time! ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) 💖


	3. A whole new world

✦𝕄𝕚𝕣𝕣𝕠𝕣 | 𝕄𝕚𝕣𝕣𝕠𝕣✦

Chapter three  


_ A whole new world _

* * *

Zoba was on her feet, wings still blanketing her shoulders and hovering tightly against her frame. Her mind conjured up the image of an orange shock blanket as they brushed her upper arms, and she understood suddenly how having that simple weight could make the difference between full-blown panic and wide-eyed silence. Four hands grasped at random opposite elbows, also giving the impression she needed a bit of a physical reinforcement to help hold herself together.

Holy crap. This was all real, wasn’t it? She was actually here, in Nazarick. She was in this body, and somehow Demiurge was also living, right alongside her. And…

To add to her confusion, there was this other person. Someone she’d never seen before.

As Demiurge had extended an arm and offered to aid the djinn to her feet, she had looked around and caught the stranger’s eyes. A startling green radiated from irises, coloring them in their entirety. The sclera were colored even more deeply, and as she watched, Zoba saw the diamond pupils contract in their focus. Those eyes were watching with the same sort of stupefaction Zoba felt for the world around her, both women currently in enough shock to forget about the societal impoliteness of staring.

Oh—right!! Shoot, it was rude to stare, probably should not be doing that. Zoba turned her gaze down embarrassedly. Her blue hands wrung one another, twisting in patterns that got fingers stuck between joints as she thought too hard on the action. Yeah… she was a pretty strange sight to behold, wasn’t she? Certainly not the strangest sight in Nazarick, but enough that she couldn’t deny she’d probably stare a bit as well. Four uncoordinated arms, white pupils rimmed in cerulean, hair that flowed like a languid fountain of flames, and two large unruly wings. Added to that, her sudden pop into existence seemed to be as out of the blue to them as it was to her. Heh; out of the blue. That was pretty funny, she thought, watching as the bright tips of the woman’s hair shifted over her shoulders. A blue djinn popping in from out of the blue.

Oh shoot, she was staring again! Darting her head away, Zoba went to tuck her own hair back in an automatic gesture of apology, (would she even be able to get it to hold behind her ear? It had such a strange elemental life to it now, but maybe it could—) and her knuckles smacked into something hard. She jumped, halfway up from the ground, and Demiurge snapped forth a second hand to grasp her forearm, balancing against her surprise.

Right. She’d forgotten she had horns. She’d never had to… actually _interact_ with them before. Four great big ol’ horns, two of which she now just barely noticed as she looked into her peripherals. Add _that_ to the ever-growing growing list of oddities.

And now, she was standing before the two beings, attempting to be a bit more polite as she unfolded her arms, stress overtaking the attempt and causing two thumbs to wrestle while the others hid under balled up fingers at her sides.

“D-Demiurge,” she tried again, this time attempting to actually _form_ her thoughts before blurting them out, “What… what is going on? How are you… How am I… still here?”

He looked to the other woman standing there, and her bewildered reptilian eyes focused back at him. “My Lady… What do you last recall?”

Zoba didn’t need to think hard; it had just barely happened, after all. “I was copying you. W-well I mean, I was finishing the record I’ve been making of Nazarick, but something went wrong and I couldn’t troubleshoot it in time, so I—” Oh. Oh, no, did he— had he actually put his arms around— Her face blushed. “I, uh, I waited for my power to be shut off, and it should have kicked me out, but… now I’m here.”

“You remember nothing from then until now?”

She paused on that wording, eyebrows knitting together What did he mean, “until now”? “No, I, I think I was somewhere… less? But it didn’t feel like—” She screwed up her eyebrows. “Do you… remember that? When did that happen, how long has it…?”

His ears twitched. “Your absence within Nazarick has extended to four years, six months, and eighteen days.”

Four years.

_Four years._

“Um. Oh.” She looked at the floor, head suddenly feeling light despite the weight of her horns. “That’s… that’s a long time.”

“No amount of time would remove your place here in Nazarick, Lady Zoba. Now that you are here, I assure you, you are safe.” Demiurge bowed at the waist, and she stepped back to register the show of loyalty. She looked to the woman with blue-tipped wild red hair, seeing her dragon-like tail curling close to an ankle. The woman continued to stare back, hand up at the side of her head.

“Momonga’s on his way,” she announced shakily, two fingers dropping from her temple, brushing against the blue scales that peppered the sides of her face.

Zoba felt her wings edge her forward as the name echoed from the woman’s lips. “Momonga? Momonga’s here?!”

The appointed guild leader, the man who had held Ainz Ooal Gown together with fervor even as its members fell astray, he was here as well?!

“Y-yeah, he's..he's on his way," she repeated.

Then, Zoba wasn't alone. She had a friend, a real frame of reference. Someone who might bring some sanity to the situation. This was great! Surely he would have some answers, some—

...Four years.

The question hung on her tongue.

Demiurge had straightened, hands clasped at his back, while the woman in the entrance looked on, eyes oscillating between the other two. They all paused, each waiting for a cue as Zoba held her breath. How could she arrange this question with the limited knowledge available? With the oddity of the circumstance and the unexplained dual reverence and alarm she was being greeted with?

She decided to pose her question to both of them. “Is Momonga coming from… home? Does he know how to get there? M-my menus are gone, and…”

The woman replied, her expression shifting as she did. "...Shit. I know this is a lot, _a lot_ a lot, but no. There isn't a way home. This is it, just here."

No way home. No way back. And it had been over _four years_.

Zoba gave a hollow chuckle. “Yeah, yup, that’s— that’s a lot.”

Demiurge was watching carefully, more of his crystal eyes showing than Zoba was accustomed to seeing. In his default position, they were fairly veiled behind his lids, a coy squint hiding them from casual observation. They were a subtle deviation from his color scheme, meant to draw attention if they were revealed, a smug jab and proud testament to his prey of just how much effort had gone into his creation. As Zoba looked him over again, his tail had a small spasm before abruptly stilling, held higher from the ground and closer to his frame than a moment before.

Zoba was grateful for, if not confused by, his attentive demeanor and easily allowed him to remain close, but honestly, his seriousness was making the situation more stressful. He seemed on edge, and she felt that worry reverberate back and forth between them both. The most grounding presence was certainly the woman; she had not only been the one to mention Momonga, but the way she spoke was so much more relaxed than Demiurge. Her informal phrasing and unbridled authenticity mitigated the strangeness of this whole thing just a bit. If this weirdness had to occur, Zoba was relieved to have Demiurge here, but she was also very grateful for… uh… for...

She practically barked a laugh through her nervousness. “Wow, sorry, I am _so_ rude, I haven’t even… I’m, I’m Zoba.” Two of her hands reached forward, and she hurriedly dropped the lower and awkwardly attempted to puppeteer a wing to also retreat, the appendage having also sprung open at the stiff offering of a handshake. The woman gave a weak sort of smile at the clumsy effort toward etiquette.

"Yeah. I know who you are."

The hand faltered back, wing following. She felt almost as though she should… apologize? The short statement brought forth more questions, but before Zoba could ask any of them, a flash of arriving color briefly brightened the area.

And there he stood. Guild ring glow fading from the teleportation, his highest level robes adorned, hooded skull towering over the present company.

Momonga. Her friend.

“...[Maximize Magic],” a deep, unfamiliar voice rang, his head lowering against her.

Oh, shoot, he was her friend still, right?! Zoba’s wings puffed back up and her hand returned to her hip as an energy rose through her being—

“[Dispel Illusion],” he finished. A circle of magic formed around his hand, and the sockets of his eyes flashed red.

...Illusion? Did he think she was a fake, or hiding something? The other two seemed to already trust him completely, so it must be her that he was investigating. He was always a thoughtful and cautious person when it came to preparations, but… had time made him that wary of her presence here? What exactly had he been through?

They all held still, waiting for his move.

His head rose. “It’s… true. Zoba. Is it really you?”

“I mean… Yeah, I… as far as I can tell, I’m me. Hi.” She tried to laugh and relax her nervous wings. “It’s… that’s you in there, right?”

He must have noticed her hand at her hip, or maybe the unease in her eyes. He nodded. “I remember when you chose those knives. You almost went for dual-wielding kamas, but in the end, you liked the speed the knives provided. I still don’t understand why you didn’t take my suggestion and equip two of each.”

It was him. It was him, underneath that bone and behind the strange voice. It was her guild leader, the man she’d known for years. Momonga was really here with her.

He raised his arms in greeting and began to speak again, but Zoba found herself rushing forward, hands and wings circling over his bony frame and around his ornaments. As she felt tears roll down her cheeks, she had to laugh. This was, at least to her understanding of time, the second instance in the past half hour she had hugged someone while sobbing, the second time she’d sought comfort in someone’s arms as they slowly returned the embrace. The first time had been with a desperate desire not to leave. This time, it was with the overwhelming relief that she wasn’t the only one who didn’t.

“Demiurge, I want the temple sealed off; no one is to enter. Or to leave.” Momonga’s voice boomed from somewhere within him, arms still comforting his friend as she heard him direct his orders to the arch devil. “Not until we have discovered what has occurred here. Holly, message Albedo. Have her set Nazarick on high alert, but do not yet inform her for the reasons behind this. I will explain all to her when there is more to divulge.”

Zoba pulled away a little, looking up at the red glow that showed he was looking to the other two in the room. To be giving directions like this, he must be over all of Nazarick, and likely the whole tomb still existed. That was comforting, that despite the enormous change, at least the fruits of everyone’s labor persisted. Four years down the road, and Momonga had kept Nazarick stable. Not only that, she thought, as the red turned to her reassuringly, he seemed to be handling it all with grace. Quite a bit of grace. And authority. Whatever happened to the laid back man she’d known before? Had he vanished under the weight of this new reality?

“At once, my Lord.” Demiurge’s voice returned with fervor, and the woman’s rang out as well.

“Got it.” Red hair shifted around ivory horns as she gave a single swift nod, two fingers already returned to her temple. Holly, wasn’t it? Holly. She’d have to try and remember that new name.

Zoba pulled away from Momonga, blushing and fretting a hand over the fresh tear stains in his silk robes. There would be a lot of new things, probably.

There was a lot to discuss.

  
  


* * *

  
  


The conversation held an air of tension, even as Demiurge confirmed that the temple was now secure and no one would disturb this impromptu meeting. First, Momonga heard Demiurge and Holly speak, recounting their discovery of Zoba in the secluded collection chamber. Then Zoba told them everything she could remember of how she came to be there, which to her felt like a disturbingly small offering of information. At that, Momonga turned back to Demiurge.

“Do you recall the moment of Zoba’s departure?”

“Yes, Lord Ainz; I remember it with great clarity.”

Oh. Oh dear. He could remember that? ...All of it? Zoba felt a blush deepen the color on her face, and she tried to act unaffected. With great clarity, huh? She hadn’t recounted the detail of holding him, or what she’d said. Or his actions back. She wondered if he remembered those parts with "great clarity".

Wait… what was it he just called Momonga?

“If you would, then.”

“Of course.” The devil’s lips were upturned in a grin that had beamed from the moment Momonga mentioned the four of them were to remain here together until this whole event had been talked through. Something about that seemed to make him very pleased. His tail was waggling even now, lilting as it displayed his elation. It paused for a moment before he spoke, then continued in it’s happy course. “More than four years ago, on the day of her planned departure, Lady Zoba came to me to frame a copy of my existence as she had with several creations of the Supreme Ones. As reiterated in her own description, something went wrong with the transcribing process, and— well, our Lady of Desires vanished before my eyes. Much like the others who had gone before her, as I understand it. It is strange to describe, my Supreme Ones.” His smile had faltered slightly as the articulate devil searched for fitting words. “When my creator left, I recall the swift feeling of his absence, a withdrawal from the fabric of Nazarick. But when Lady Zoba was taken away… hmm. It would be more accurate to characterize that shift as a stagnation or discontinuation, rather than removal. Her absence was absolute, but the space left by it felt… entrenched.”

His tail had slowed, coming almost to a rest. “I would conclude from the facts presented that Lady Zoba was somehow hidden away within the very existence of Nazarick, by fault of the divine tool, or “program’s”, malfunction. A backfiring perhaps from a corrupted element within caused her to undergo the process that has brought her to us now.”

Was he saying she had been… what, compressed by her program down into a sort of zip file? That it had turned on her and, rather than create a copy, consumed the source material whole? That was… terrifying, honestly. She dropped her chin a little while listening, shifting on her feet. For some reason, she wanted to stand closer to the courtly devil. He did put her more at ease when he was at her side, but it felt… deeper than just that. Like something bigger, something more. But as big as it was, that desire was being washed about, back and forth in a confusing torrent by another impression. She felt a draw to press forward the conversation, as though there were other opinions that should be added at its conclusion. Stalling Demiurge in his thoughts with a nonverbal request for closeness would probably delay that. It was best then to stay right where she was, as much as she felt driven to follow the tide to him. She let a slow breath hum from her mouth.

“Hot damn.” Holly took her hands off her hips and crossed them as her eyebrows lifted. “I wouldn’t have guessed something like this was possible.” Her tail tapped thoughtfully, and Zoba looked her over once again, trying to dissect how to feel about her. The newcomer seemed to be bubbling with a pervading energy by nature, spirited and plain in her thoughts and feelings, and Zoba appreciated that greatly. Yet Holly’s very existence made her feel as though she’d missed an entire act of a performance that now, she needed to participate in. That made her a bit uneasy. What part had Holly been playing? What part would Zoba be expected to play?

Holly caught the djinn staring (Oh drat, again?! She really needed to stop doing that) and offered a smile that teetered between polite and rueful. Zoba returned it with a spike of social panic, and tried to halt her unconscious rocking back and forth towards Demiurge to hold still.

“It feels impossible, yet here we are,” Momonga agreed. “As expected, Demiurge, you have grasped the solution to this conundrum rather quickly. The explanation you present is certainly the most plausible.”

The arch devil bowed his head and crossed a hand over his chest. “You honor me with such praise; I am sure such a thing was obvious to you from the start, my Lord! I am pleased to have deduced the understanding you wished me to procure.”

“You give me too much credit,” Momonga stated, and Zoba had to agree with the tone in which he spoke; her reiteration of her experience had been anything but clear, and to assume anyone had a better grasp on the situation than Demiurge did, as proven in the way he'd pieced together the events, was pretty unlikely. She was still very lost in so many ways, and to make matters more disorienting, this new form her body took was so frustrating to control. She had resigned to using two arms to hold down her wings, crossing them and grasping at a point that made her feel like she was gripping the feathery appendages’ knuckles in anxiousness. The fine muscles flexed self-soothingly under her fingers, gold-tipped feathers expanding and collecting as though shuddering with an individual life, startling her each time they parted through unaffected hair to reenter her peripheral vision.

She was back to wishing she’d opted for gills.

She understood Momonga felt an urgency about resolving this, but it was all becoming a bit too much. She needed answers too.

“Are we...” They looked to Zoba as she blurted out the words, then waited as she changed her mind. “What happened to Yggdrasil? How did this happen?”

Holly looked to Momonga and pursed her lips, and he took the question.

“Ah… Sorry. I can hardly imagine how much this must be to process. But to start, this place isn’t Yggdrasil. It was—” Momonga glanced at Demiurge and cleared his throat. “Those who developed that world at large ended it, and that same night, as Nazarick came to life, we found ourselves somewhere new. A whole new world. How such a thing occurred, we are still uncertain.”

Zoba furrowed her brow against his choice of words. Who the heck referred to the devs as “those who developed”? And while it pained her to hear they had shut down the servers to such a beloved game, why would he phrase it that way? Was this a virtual limbo, or a new game with some hellish quarantine preventing log outs, or did he mean an actual physical world?

She thought of his odd glance to the side. Did the NPCs not know Yggdrasil was a game? That _could_ be uncomfortable to try and explain they hadn’t been “real”, and however things sat now, she certainly didn’t want to disrupt the power balance. Beyond that, she would definitely feel awful putting anyone through some kind of existential crisis.

She used her free hands to cover her face for a moment, then nodded and slid them back to cover her cheeks. They grazed something as she did. Right. Horns. Horns and four arms and wings and blue skin and hair that was tangible yet not. Right.

“Ok. Ok, that’s…” She wanted to just ask everything clouding her mind outright, but a strange pressure drove her to be selective in her words, to pick them as carefully as Momonga had. To not reveal anything that might be too much.

But there were so many questions. And each one seemed to just bring more, like cells splitting exponentially to become a fully grown monster of whatever reality this was. It was all so much.

She narrowed it down. There were two questions that pressed her mind more determinedly than the others: One that needed to be approached in private, maybe later, and one that she really hoped would be answered with a “no.” Trailing her fingers along the ridges of curved horns, she did as she felt inclined to do for Momonga’s sake and asked the second as covertly as she could.

“Is this everyone that… came here from Yggdrasil?”

Holly snorted a laugh at the question, cutting through the tension and shaking her head reassuringly. “Nah. The tomb transferred. Like, the _whole tomb_.”

A moment of selfish relief flooded through Zoba. “So then, who’s here? Tabula, or maybe Hero Hero… or…?” She watched realization light on Holly’s face, and the easy smile faltered. It took that selfish sense of relief with it. Zoba looked to Momonga instead, the hope striving to survive on her face.

“...No,” his heavy voice replied. “No, they are not here.”

A sadness overtook her. She felt ready to drown in the revelation. “Just us, then?”

A skull should not have been able to portray such emotion. The red lights flickered out for a moment.

“Oh.” Her legs shook. “Momonga, I… I’m so…”

“My Lady,” Demiurge interjected, “are you alright?” He held a hand to her, and she looked at the black glove. Something shifted to the right, and the sudden urge to not only take his hand but to wrap it around her, to claim the comfort it offered and rest easy, to hide in his familiar shape consumed her mind. She hungered for it, to take his hand and all it offered—

She balked, almost tripping as she ripped her hand fiercely out of the air and back to her chest. What was she thinking?! He was a living breathing being now, not an NPC she could use to satiate a quick desire! Had she really lost all sense of respect towards Ulbert’s creation when she allowed herself that one little hug? What the heck had gotten into her?!

“Maybe you should… get some rest. Yeahh.” Holly suggested, Zoba’s turn to Demiurge and hasty step back having placed Holly nearly behind the djinn. Zoba nodded, holding as still as she could. Yes, this meeting should end. It was time to be done for a while.

“The ninth floor is still private quarters, right?” She asked Momonga, turning with a wrench in her gut from Demiurge’s faltering hand. “C-could you show me there? We can talk a little more?”

“Yes! That is— I would be happy to do so.” Half a pause, and he extended an arm which Zoba leaned on gratefully, still holding her wings carefully close. He cleared his throat. “Demiurge, Holly, gather the guardians to the throne room. I will join you shortly, and we will inform Nazarick of Zoba’s miraculous return.”

Demiurge bowed at the waist, Holly responded in the affirmative, and Momonga with Zoba flashed out of space, teleporting through the tomb. Zoba’s last thought as the sight before her eyes changed from the bowing devil in red to bright formal halls, was that perhaps she should have taken his hand after all.

She hoped she hadn’t offended him. Her heart ached at the thought. After all, out of all the treasures in this entire guild, out of everything and everyone that could have appeared before her at the shocking revelation of all of this… if she was being completely honest with herself… 

There was no one she would have wished to greet her more.

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ・:*☆ 𝒜𝓊𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓇𝓈 𝒩𝑜𝓉𝑒𝓈 ☆*:・ 
> 
> Oooh man there are some feelings going around! Something is up with Holly, and Demi's tail gives him away every time. Momonga seems so happy to have a friend return, and Zoba... actually, was it just me, or was there something kinda weird going on with that djinn's feels?... Meh, what do I know, I'm just her writer! It's probably nothing! 
> 
> [ Child of Jörmungandr Tumblr](https://download077.tumblr.com/) and [ Real Life on the Seventh Floor Tumblr ](https://reallifeonthetheseventhfloor.tumblr.com/) \- Follow us for updates, Overlord Content, Artwork, Incorrect quotes, and other Overlord related shenanigans! 


	4. plɹoʍ ʍǝu ǝloɥʍ ∀

✧𝕄𝕚𝕣𝕣𝕠𝕣 | 𝕄𝕚𝕣𝕣𝕠𝕣✧

Chapter four  


plɹoʍ ʍǝu ǝloɥʍ ∀ _  
_

* * *

Gold coins singed with ash litter the steps before the altar in the vault of Baphomet. There are shattered vases and charred jewels freakin' _everywhere._ All the while as Holly stares at the wall, head full of cotton, little embers leap up from the ground to nip at the hem of her jeans. Columns of lava burst into the sky. A hiss echoes through her ears as globs of magma splash against the stone bricks of the seventh floors Burning Temple. 

The very air sighs as it grows thin from Momonga and Zoba’s departure.

Questions assault Holly’s mind like a bunch of starving kids all pulling at the same hunk of bread. It’s like streams flowing from a greater deposit of water, they all come from one source. One question. One damned question. _What does she do now?_ Holly rubs circles against her temples. Demiurge silently paces as his shadow licks over the room. The only thing to break the silence is the roar of heat from the bubbling river of fire.

That is, until Demiurge speaks.

“Lady Holly,” She holds him in her peripheral vision as he speaks up, “If I may?”

She’d really rather him not. “...Yeah. Yeah, go ahead.”

Demiurge lifts a shard of glass, twisting it between his thumb and claw tip. “Lord Ainz issued an order for yourself and I to gather the remaining floor guardians. Should it ease your mind, I could--”

“No,” Holly snaps her hand up. Demiurge halts the slow twirl of glass pinched between his fingers as he straightens his posture. “I’ll…talk with the others. There’s something else I want you to do.”

“Of course.”

Holly stares at the only clean area in the room. Dead center. A petite circle free from ash revealing an area rug where Zoba was once kneeling. Holly’s stomach tightens. “I don’t need you at the meeting. You know what’s goin’ on and having you there would be unnecessary. It’d be better to have you watching...Zoba. Yeahh. She’ll be all alone once Mo- Err, Ainz leaves her side. I don’t like the idea of that. Catch my drift?”

Holly studies his unflappable expression in the want of him telling her no. _No, Lady Holly. Although I respect your sentiments, I would rather--_

“A fantastic idea!” Demiurge’s tail flicks behind him as he grins into the sliver of glass. Holly fights her eyes away because seeing him smile twice at his decision cuts a little deeper than she had anticipated. “I as well believe that our Lady Zoba should not be left without assistance. I truly appreciate the opportunity to attend to her most fortunate arrival.”

“Yeahhh,” Holly restrains her sneer for a weak smile. “You should go.”

Demiurge bows with an arm swung behind his back. “At once. Of course, after I escort you to the thro-”

“I’m _fine_.” 

His forehead wrinkles in the frail understanding that something might be off. Maybe Holly’s upset. Maybe she’s confused, ya know? This is a lot, after all. Or, maybe he’s just conjuring up the thought that he can’t understand her because she’s a supreme being and to him, that’s above his pay grade.

...How is he supposed to know when she doesn’t even know?

“I understand. Thank you for your precious time, my supreme one.” A flash of black fire, and before the fragment of glass can drop to the ground it falls to ash in the demon’s activation of his guild ring.

Wow.

Well, that settles it. She’d rather believe the sting in her eyes is from the smoke that permeates the air of the seventh floor and not the fist gripping at her heart. Damn it. D-Damn it! Why does she feel like this?! Ugh! On what cultural grounds do the guardians base their relationships on? Never mind that, what does _Demiurge_ think? Guess she’s just old news! Step aside Holly, there’s a new girl in town!

Whatever. Fuck Zoba. 

Ugh! Aren’t there more important things to attend to rather than worrying about than this bullshit? Holly smacks a hand against her head. _Hard._ Come on, snap out of it! She’s better than this!

…

But why does it hurt so bad?

With a firm press of her palms upon her thighs, Holly moves to shove herself up. Nothing happens. Nothing happens, because the weight on her heart is just a bit much right now. Maybe she should just take it easy for a sec. The guardians don’t need another weak Holly moment with her dashing off to her room to hide in her bed. They need a supreme being. They need her. So, she just needs to take a moment to collect herself. Clear her head. She just needs..

The ash from the coins scattered around the vault blow away as a gust of wind kicks up in the room. _Whoosh!_ Their many shades of rose gold and copper catch her eye as they twinkle and glitter. Splinters of amber light dance across the floor as the steady clicking of heels, and the much wanted, _needed_ warmth of a familiar coat pooling over her right leg lets Holly know that really, she’s never actually alone.

It’s gonna be okay.

…Albedo wasn’t the only guardian she [Message]’d, after all. Sure, Momonga wanted Albedo to set the tomb on high alert. Done and done. But Holly? Well. Holly wanted Pandora’s Actor to have a mirror of remote viewing on her location as soon as shit started to go down.

Holly threads her fingers through Pandora’s and can’t help but think that maybe...maybe Demiurge deserves a chance to be someone’s first. Maybe she’s just goin’ about this all wrong. Heh, come to think of it? Zoba might not even like him. 

Pffft. 

Who is she even tryin’ to kid right now..

“Do you happen to recall what I spoke unto you about the crafting qualities of gold, my love?” Pandora lifts Holly’s chin with one of his lengthy fingers. With a few blinks, Holly slowly dips her head into a nod.

She doesn’t need to say anything. She says it all as she melts into him with arms strung around his neck. Holly closes her eyes. Pandora whispers sweet nothings that occasionally rise to an excited volume as he strokes a hand down her back.

As Holly fills her lungs she buries her face into the pocket of Pandora’s shoulder. Inhale. Exhale. That crisp linen scent with a tease of sandalwood that she’s grown to love so much lifts her into a temporary high as she wraps her tail around one of Pandora’s boots and tugs him closer.

“Come with me.” Muffled, but clear as she whispers into his pronounced collar.

“But of course!” Pandora holds Holly closer. “Why, I would not miss it for the very world.”

* * *

Holly mindlessly pushes the coins that dot the seventh floor’s collection chamber around with the tip of her tail before releasing a lengthy, winded sigh.

She should get going.

With a flick of her wrist, Holly equips her armor before teleporting to the throne room. If she’s gonna play the part she might as well look it. Flexing her fingers, she watches as the plates of steel bend against the rich blue fabric residing beneath. Deep breath, this is no big deal. Just a conference with Momonga and the floor guardians. Absent of Demiurge, of course, because there’s a new supreme being in town that needs babysitting.

A sneer rips itself across Holly’s face. Whatever. It’s fine. Fine. Finefinefinefinefine. She'd prefer for someone to watch over Zoba. Demiurge is the best candidate for that, after all. Who knows what Zoba’s thoughts about all of this are? Sure it’s overwhelming, but after the initial _wow I’m actually here_ thought process what if she’s a total bitch? What if Zoba wants something completely different than what Holly and Momonga want?

Oh my god, what if the others start to crop up? That thought makes Holly’s stomach sour. Why does that scare her? The base of Holly’s tail clenches as she balls up her fists. Is it because she thinks they’re better than her?

...

Ya know, torturing herself with the _what if_ game is gonna get her nowhere real damn fast. Snapping two fingers to her temple, she figures it best to drop that internal monologue for the time being. That thought process isn’t gonna cast [Greater Teleportation] for her. Heh, pretty sure at a later date she'll return to those thoughts, or, rather, they’ll come back to haunt her. 

Oh goodie.

[Greater Teleportation]

  
  
  
Darkness envelops Holly, and she’s weightless but for a moment as she teleports to the throne room. The seventh floor flows like water color that’s been burned and bleeds into the rich shades of burgundy, blue, and black that warm the tenth floor while she warps in. As Holly’s feet _clank_ against the steps ahead of the Throne of Kings a familiar cold begins to nip her nose. 

A hiss fills the air, followed by a comet’s tail of thin ice drifting to the floor. The tip of Holly’s tail wiggles as Cocytus, followed by Pandora’s Actor, bow upon her arrival. She takes a quick survey of the throne room before hopping down the steps and rushing towards them. Thankfully Pandora requested that he be sent first to announce her glorious arrival (his words not hers), so she took it upon herself to arrive fashionably late. Fashionably late as in she needed to take the time to gather up her thoughts, but hey, it all worked out.

They’re the only two here at the moment. Sweeet.

“Hey, knock it off,” Snickering, Holly motions for them to stand. “You both know by now you don’t gotta do that with me.”

“Preliminary formality, my dear!”

“Mmm,” Cocytus rumbles as he makes to stand. “Lady. Holly. Pandora’s. Actor. Has. Informed. Me. Of. Nazarick’s. Current. State.”

Holly’s shoulders relax. Pandora freakin’ rocks. Glancing around Cocytus and towards the hallway leading out, or rather, _into_ the throne room, Holly asks, “Any idea of when the others are gonna show up?”

“If. They. Have. Any. Decency. Soon.” 

“Right you are, my hypothermic friend!” Pandora shouts. Sneaking up to Holly’s right side, he resumes with a salute. “However, fear not! I can feel their very approach as they move through Nazarick. They make haste to our location as we speak!”

Okay, cool. She’s got a minute to figure out how to hash this impromptu meeting out.

Speaking of which, she’s uh, never been very...formal. Truth be told, she’s always opted for a laid back approach to things. At her old job, even when put into a seat of power, she always found that it just suited her better to be casual. It’s easier to talk with people rather than at them, or worse, down to them.

Doesn’t mean she doesn't have it in her, though. Shasuryu had to learn that the hard way. 

So, now she has a choice to make. Think fast! This is kinda...her first solo big deal with the guardians since she got here. She’s already aware that Momonga is gonna take his sweet time talking with Zoba. This is growing more and more apparent as time continues to tick by without his presence.

Whatever. Fuck it. Lead by example, right? Holly takes her seat on the steps before the Throne of Kings. She thinks if she acts casual, they’ll all act casual.

...Here’s to hoping.

The floor guardians trickle in one by one, each asking their own version of _Lady Holly! What is going on? How can we serve you?!_ And it sucks, it sucks cause she hates how they look freakin’ terrified when she tells them to just wait. Mare, clutching his staff while Aura balls her fists up with a wrinkled brow. Albedo, sitting to her left and nearly crawling into her lap begging to know if Momonga is alright. And Shalltear…

Shalltear hasn’t been the same since Downfall of Castle and Country. 

Absent Momonga and Demiurge, everyone’s here. Damn it, does Momonga really expect her to stall for him? Ugh. Okay, okay, cool. She’s cool. She’s got this. Omitting information isn’t necessarily lying, yeah? She’ll do what she can without spilling the beans about Zoba. With that in mind, she’s gonna use what she’s picked up from Momonga when he interacts with the guardians on his _‘Lord Ainz’_ level.

Turn their questions back on them.

Albedo frowns as Holly urges, “He’s fine! Look, I promise. He’s just uhhh...taking care of a few things. He’ll be here shortly, though!”

“My lady, there must be more that I can contribute to in the meantime!” Albedo pleads. Lacing her fingers together as if she were praying, her bottom lip pouts as she continues, “Or perhaps you could send me to retrieve Lord Ainz?”

Holly bites back a laugh. Albedo would probably be singing a different tune if she knew what Momonga was actually doing. “Don’t worry, really. It’s like I said, he’ll be here soon. However, you did bring up something that I wanna ask you about. Why don’t you..why don’t you tell me what you think you could do? As guardian overseer your input isn’t just respected, ya know. It’s necessary.”

Albedo blinks a few times before an understanding dawns on her face. “Preemptively, I would like to reinstate Nazarick’s Patrol system and expand it from the first three floors to all of Nazarick. Should the news Lord Ainz carries for us be nefarious, this is what I believe essential to assure steps towards keeping the great tomb secure.”

Thaaat sounds expensive. However, she’s got a really good point. If Zoba can just materialize out of thin air...what else might be able to creep in? 

Holly taps Pandora’s boot with the tip of her tail.

[Message]

_Can we afford that? I know you’ve gotta have an opinion on this._

_Hmmmmmmm! All options considered? Let it be known that Lord Ainz is not particular to indulging in such exorbitant activities. Alas, should it ease the minds of the floor guardians, I find no detriment in rousing the slumbering Patrol system for a few meager hours._

_Gotcha, sounds good. Gotta know, though. How hard will this hit the Treasury? Are we talkin’ a gut punch or open heart surgery?_

_Haha, liebling! As it stands, you seem to have enough upon your lovely hands. Do not concern yourself with the financial burden that the Treasury will sustain. Sincerely! Worry not, for I will handle such matters with glorious purpose!_

_You’re the freakin’ best. We’ll talk more later, kay?_

_I wish for nothing more, my love._

  
  


[End Message]

  
  
  
“For the time being that’s a great start,” Holly tosses a quick glance Pandora’s way. As he snaps a hand to his cap to reaffirm her decision, she resumes, “I’ll see to it that that gets done asap, kay?”

“Lady Holly!” Aura exclaims. “What about us? We wanna help, too!”

Following in his sisters stead, Mare bows his head into a nod. “M-Maybe we could reposition some of..some of the dragonkin on our floor? I-I mean, I think some of them coul-could scout the tunnels between the floors. For, um, p-potential danger. I mean! I-If that’s okay, my lady.”

Holy crap, that’s smart.

“That’s awesome! I love that idea. Ya know, if I were tryin’ to sneak into this place the tunnels are where I’d start. Speaking of which,” Leaning forward, Holly turns her attention towards Cocytus. “Hey, do you think you can send some frost virgins with the dragonkin?”

Cocytus releases a puff of blue mist. “I. Am. Your. Will. Made. Real. Lady. Holly. Consider. It. Done.”

Holly grins.

Nice. This is going a lot smoother than she expected! However...hoping that the look in her eyes is inviting, Holly sets her sights on Shalltear. Balling up a portion of her gown within a fist, Shalltear faces the ground as she mumbles, “Surely there must be something that I can do to be of use.”

Scratch that last thought.

The back of Holly’s mind crawls with guilt. Damn. Ever since Shalltear’s fight with Momonga, Holly’s been bouncing between project to project. Overseeing Cocytus’s assault on the Lizardmen, furthering her Adventurer’s rank, Carne Village, and yeahhh let’s not forget about the shipyard in Baharuth since we’re on a guilt trip. 

A shudder of shame shoots a cold breeze down Holly’s spine as Shalltear’s eyes flicker between hers and the ground. Yeah, she knows. She hasn't spent any time with Shalltear since her resurrection. Does Shalltear think she’s avoiding her? Putting herself in Shalltear’s shoes, wow, yeah...Yeah. She can totally see that.

Time to fix things. She thinks if she can get Shalltear to talk through this it’ll help. “We need all hands on deck here, so of course there’s something you can do. Actually, there’s a lot you can do! I just need help deciding on what,” Sitting herself up a bit straighter, Holly steeps a care into her voice as she suggests, “How about you tell me where you think you’re best suited and we’ll go from there?”

Shalltears’ eyes lock onto Holly’s as she whines, “Why, with you Lady Holly! Wouldn’t I be better suited as your personal escort over that buffoon?!”

Ice hits Holly’s veins. That was _not_ what she was expecting.

Layers of chains spill over Holly’s shoulder as Pandora leans over her and hisses, “Do my very eyes and ears deceive me?! Come now, sincerely! You would dare to even humor the blasphemy of challenging the mighty decree of a supreme being?”

“Don’t get snooty with me, you goon,” Shalltear tosses a hand up to her chest as she cries, “Just look at you, you don’t even have ears! Maybe if you did what happened to Lady Holly in E-Rantel wouldn’t have come to pass.”

The memory of the mansion suite detonates like a bomb off the back of Holly’s skull. _Boom!_ Holly’s vision tunnels and her mind hits the floor. Darkness. Shouting. Black, wet, gurgling and gasping while reality tries to stretch her across where she was then, and where she is now.

"Hold your vile tongue, concubine! Understand that you know not a crumb of which you so zealously spit!” 

Nope.

This is not the time for a flashback episode. Shaking the fog off of her mind, Holly barks, “Hey! Knock it off, both of you!”

“My deepest apologies, Lady Holly,” Shalltear frowns. Without warning, her lips peel back with a snarl that she shrieks, “However, should I have been the one to accompany you I would have assured your safety above all else!”

With a throw of his coat, Pandora stomps forward, arms thrown wide as he wails, “Treacherous lampr--Oof!”

Pandora’s hands rocket to his crotch as Holly elbows him in the nuts.

“Lieb-Liebling!” Pandora coughs. “N-Not the jewels!” 

Sorry, Pandora. She’ll make it up to him later.

Holly stretches a finger towards Shalltear and growls, “Stop.”

“Yeah, Shalltear!” Aura scowls. “You’d better listen up!”

“Agreed,” Heat scorns Albedo’s words as she looks down her nose at Shalltear. “Haven’t you grown tired of disgracing Nazarick?”

Holy shit, can they not right now?!

“You guys--”

“What did you just say to me?!” Shalltear freaks out as she leaps up to her feet. A purple glow outlines her frame while she wails, “It wasn’t my fault! Lord Ainz declared it so!”

Shalltear balls up her gown within her fists as she squeezes her eyes shut and yelps, “It was an accident!”

“Guardians. Are. Not. Permitted. Accidents.” 

Holly grits her teeth. “You _guys_ \--”

“Um, I mean, Cocytus is right,” Mare pipes up. “W-We need to be at our best!”

Albedo continues to glare at Shalltear. “Precisely.”

Ugh! If Momonga was here--

A pit draws itself into Holly’s stomach.

_"Holly, allow me to say this. Had I been in your situation, understand that I would have held supremacy over the guardians without question."_

“The audacity exuded from the lot of you is what is truly a disgrace!” Pandora’s bravado booms above the others. “Sincerely! To speak in such vitriolic ways in the company of meine dame!”

“Silence yourself, Treasury guardian,” The feathers upon Albedo’s hip wings ruffle up as she whips Pandora down to size with a look. “Your voice is neither warranted nor desired. The sole reason as to why you are present is due to Lady Holly’s request. Do not forget your place.”

Holly's breathing accelerates. Something ugly spikes the heat in her blood.

What might have been a response catches in Pandora’s throat as he bows his head and swallows. Facing the ground, Pandora clenches his fists, voice shaking as he says, “Miss Albedo--"

Aura cuts him off. “Can it, yellow jacket dude!”

“I’ve had enough!” Holly barks. Emerald fire leaps from her eyes and begins to drip from her armor. Shoving herself up to her feet, Holly yanks Kingslayer (Adept) out of its scabbard and stabs the blade into the ground as she bellows, “I said I’ve had enough!”

All of the present guardians respectively drop to a knee.

Silence.

The seconds stretch as the fire around Holly undulates with the breath she’s desperately trying to steady. No. She’s not losing control of this situation. Not again, not like at the mansion. She needs to think. Think! What should she do, how does she--

“Holly.”

A sharp inhale floods Holly’s lungs. Doused in humiliation at the call of her name, Holly’s shoulders sag forward as the green flames licking at her edges whoosh away.

Footsteps.

“We will begin momentarily,” Momonga clasps a hand on Holly’s shoulder as he joins her side. “A moment, if you would?”

Holly lowers her eyes to the ground as she whispers, “..Kay.”

* * *

This blows.

The darkness that shrouds the hallway outside of the throne room is damn near palpable. But maybe that’s just because of Momonga’s [Fear] aura and how it’s pouring from beneath his robes. Who knows. The guild staff doesn’t exactly help, either. However, Momonga likes to take it with him to meetings with the floor guardians. Helps aid with the whole ‘Lord Ainz’ thing.

Sigh.

Holly’s shoulders droop forward. A red shine glints off of her armor and blushes her face as Momonga’s eyes hang over her. All the while the reflection of her caught in his world item frowns back.

“I don’t know what happened,” Holly shakes her head. “Everything was fine one minute, and then the next, I just, I don’t know what happened.”

“You must learn to respect yourself, Holly. Once you come to that understanding, you will find yourself more than capable of avoiding similar situations.”

“On another note, I would ask for you to stop doubting yourself,” Momonga taps a finger tip against one of the many sapphires that decorate Holly’s breast plate. “It is rather unlike you.”

“Barely,” Holly huffs a laugh. Running a hand over her head, Holly stops once she reaches her horns. “It’s just been a lot these last few weeks. Like, we’ve been through so much and it never feels like enough. It’s never enough, ya know? Something always has to happen.”

“Such is the way of life,” Momonga pauses before chuckling. “Ah. And death, I suppose.”

Holly’s face cracks with a smile. “You’re dumb.”

“As it stands, I do not recall claiming otherwise.”

“Ugh!” Holly’s nose scrunches up as she laughs. Well, now’s a time as good as any. With the release of a sigh that Holly puts effort into letting go of, she allows for her head to fall back and knock against the wall. “So. How is she?”

“Mm. I was curious as to when you would ask about her,” Momonga glances down the hallway before returning his gaze to Holly. “Perhaps it would be wise for you to see for yourself?”

Holly mutters under her breath. “I just _knew_ you were gonna say that.”

“Holly,” Momonga’s voice lowers in tone as he rests an arm over her head and leans forward. “This is undoubtedly overwhelming for Zoba. For this reason, I must question if you remember our discussion from a few weeks prior to today?”

Holly sucks at her teeth.

_"I am aware of her history. I will repay kindness with kindness and nothing more. I do not possess the feelings that you do on such subjects, not anymore."_

_"...Not even a little?"_

_"I would ask that you care for me."_

...Damn. It’s hard to believe at times that even Momonga has limitations..

Holly looks into the gap within Momonga’s chest before touching a finger against his sternum. There’s a pause before she closes her eyes and gives into a reluctant nod. “Yeah. You’ve got it, big guy.”

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ・:*☆ 𝒜𝓊𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓇𝓈 𝒩𝑜𝓉𝑒𝓈 ☆*:・ 
> 
> Oh, Holly. It really is a joy of mine whenever I get to explore just how immature she can be. We chose chapter 45 of CoJ to be our branch off for Mirror because of how important it was to Holly's character development. However, she still has so much learning to do and there's still so much room for her to grow. After all, her character arc has yet to be completed! 
> 
> Maybe Holly just needs a friend. Someone that doesn't worship her or try to mentor her. And she has the chance for one! A perfect opportunity! But....will she let herself? I don't know...she's pretty on board the _Fuck Zoba_ train at the moment. 
> 
> You guys are in for a real treat with this next chapter. I can't WAIT for you all to read Zoba's perspective with what's to come! It's going to be something special. A unique scene that Kensalyn and I have been talking about for AGES and it's easily one of my favorite things that Kensalyn's ever written. I've always told her that the way she describes magic, is, well, magical! And this next chapter? Always steals my breath away. 💙💛 
> 
> [ Child of Jörmungandr Tumblr](https://download077.tumblr.com/) and [ Real Life on the Seventh Floor Tumblr ](https://reallifeonthetheseventhfloor.tumblr.com/) \- Follow us for updates, Overlord Content, Artwork, Incorrect quotes, and other Overlord related shenanigans! 
> 
> Until next time! 💖


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